Not a Manic Monday

It's another gray day here in Michigan. Amazing what a little sun will do for a person's dispostion. I'm feeling very tired in spite of the fact that I got plenty of sleep last night and went to the gym this morning before I came to work.

That usually propels me forward with some type of energy, but that doesn't seem to be happening today. I did manage to get my Easter cards out in today's mail. I'm a big fan of cards and reasons to send them, but lately I wonder if I'm going to become one of those crazy old ladies who can't stop themselves from doing all of the following on a certain holiday:

A. Sending out cards to friends and family
B. Buying a themed T-shirt to commerate said Holiday
C. Themed socks

And is this even bad? I don't know. I love holidays. I love cards. Sending them makes me happy because I think about the people I care about, getting a piece of mail that isn't a bill or junk. I know myself when I get something in the mail, it makes me feel happy. Especially if you've had a bad day--it cheers you up. And if it's been a good day, it just makes for an even better day.

I've never gotten any complaints about being thoughtful so I guess I'll carry on. The only person who ever made fun of me, was somebody I used to be friends with. We were at a funeral for a mutual friend, and I made the mistake of giving him a sympathy card. He made fun of me. It was then and there, that I decided we didn't need to be friends anymore.

On a side note, I was flipping through the channels yesterday and actually caught a woman giving birth, and they were pulling a slimy headed baby out of her. I'm sorry but it looked really gross. How come they make such a big deal about a naked butt on NYPD Blue, but there's no discussion about a baby birth?

Strange. It's not my place to say. Let me just say it really can curb an appetite like nothing I've ever seen.

Let's hope Tuesday is a rock-fest.

St. Patricks Day

Happy St. Patrick's Day my fellow Irish,and to anybody who has a drinking problem on this holiday. It pretty much makes you Irish. :)

This year my St. Patrick's Day will be less festive than it has in year's past. I may enjoy a cocktail or two from my living room. The good news is the couch is green, so that makes it festive, not pathetic.
In year's past, I've had a little more crazy times. Like the time I was in college, and I was wearing a green bra, and the bartender announced that the next person to show him their bra, got a free drink. I was just drunk enough that the power of suggestion was strong. I got half way up to the bar, and realized I didn't really want to flash a bartender for a luke warm glass of Miller High Life. I Narrowly held onto my dignity, until I sat down next to this guy, I swear I'd never seen before, who kept kissing me on the cheek. Only to realize in the morning he was in fact in my first class,and I'd never talked to him before.

Then there was the year I was on a business trip in Chicago, and my boss and I ran into this bar and slammed a bunch of those green shooter things, and when we left, I almost got hit by a taxi on Michigan Avenue.

And last year, I was in Chicago again visiting my friend Carl. We drank all day and ate corned beef. It was fun. No death cabs that time. And I got to see the Chicago river died green. I wonder if they ever dunk the Incredible Hulk in there?

Erin Go Braugh.

Kelly Rose Quinlan

Oh Scarf Why do You Hate Me?

Ok. I almost choked myself driving home last night. First of all it's winter in Michigan which means that even though it's March 9, a scarf was required if one didn't want their neck to be a frozen pole. So I was wearing this very cool scarf that Barrie knitted for me. The thing is, it's quite long, and I really love it. But as I was driving home, I realized that I had slammed the car door on said scarf, as I was wearing it.
And driving 55 miles per hour on Telegraph road. Let me clarify for you:

Half of said scarf was around my neck, while the bottom half was dragging on the ground outside the car, trying it's damnest to pull me to the asphalt to my death.

Luckily for me, I discovered my error after a few short miles and was able to open the door to retreive my scarf. Durable thing too. Not looking any worse for wear, and I awoke with my head still attached to my body so life is good.

Wash Rinse Repeat

I've reached the end of my relationship rope with the roommate. It would seem that the beau has nothing better to do with his evening than watch Tonya wash clothes. So, he'll be coming over this evening. At least I'll be gone hopefully through the spin cycle. I almost hope it's code for something else, but I don't know. We don't even have a laundry room. Yikes.

It's gonna be a fun night. I feel more like a Zombie with every passing hour, as I'm going on Day 2 with no sleep. Maybe she's going to wash some pants for him, so he can leave her room someday.

To all the Jobs I've Had Before

Ok. I'm supposed to be writing headlines for air filters and since I don't even understand their real purpose, I have decided to create instead, another Haiku for my friend Becky.

She had a tire blow-out on her way to work. She got it fixed real fast by Belle Tire. I feel it's ok to give them a little promo.

Tires all blown to shit.
can't drive 55, if I try.
Belle's got my back, yo.

Might as well write one about air filters too.

Mopar is the bomb.
Filters air till it's real clean.
Generic won't do.

So there. Maybe I should present that to my CD's and see what they think of that as a headline. Oh, CD is a Creative Director for those of you who are not immersed in a world where CD, AD, Hot, re-purpose, Outside the box means something to somebody. I'm a CW.

Funny thing is a lot of people never understand what that means. I don't work in a copyright office. I write crap that 95% of the general public will ignore or throw away. The thing is, I love it.

I've had other jobs with interesting titles. I've been a courtesy clerk at Kroger which was a nice way of saying, "Peon that collects carts in the rain." Attendent at the laundrymat code for "Wash other people's dirty clothes." Straightner was an all time low. AKA- "Walking around K-Mart all day like some crazy person with OCD. Straighten toilet paper. Tidy vitamins. Fuck. Somebody's been fondling the nylon display you spent all morning fixing, so do it again."

I really can't complain about the job I've got now. I really do like it. Sure it hurts my head sometimes but I've been here almost a year, and no one has ever asked me to collect any carts or wash any strangers underwear. You know you've really made it, when your job doesn't require either a name tag or a polyester smock of some kind.

Hair nets optional.